Joy of Witchcraft by Mindy Klasky Page B

ourselves to sense them. So I want you to start by taking three deep breaths. Center yourself. Then focus on the animals you sense—in the lake and on the shore. When you’re ready, let’s go around the circle. Everyone will name one living creature. We’ll keep going until we’ve found them all. I’ll start.”
    I closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing. In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. I was only a little distracted by Raven’s theatrical gasps, as showy as a wine connoisseur slurping a fine vintage. Some day, her dramatic ways might even become endearing. After a moment, I said, “Largemouth bass.”
    Raven waited a beat before she said, “Carp.”
    Skyler was next. I could tell she was hesitant. I suspected she might guess.
    I eased my eyes open and wove my voice into the nervous silence. “Don’t make up an answer. Extend your senses. Measure the world around you. Reach out to feel that world.”
    Skyler scrunched her forehead into a frown, but she said, “Minnow.” I nodded, still not sure if she’d used magic to find her answer.
    Cassie contributed “Canada geese,” and my other students followed in rapid order with mallard, trout, and box turtle. I relaxed a little as we began our second round. To remind my students they could venture past the dock, I said, “raccoon.”
    We went two more rounds before Raven came up dry. She simply said, “Pass”, and Alex gave us “squirrel.” Bree passed. Cassie was deep in thought, her face smooth, her lips barely parted. She was taking the exercise more seriously than any of the others. She seemed to be in a trance, hypnotized as she sought another animal presence. She took one breath, another, and then she swallowed hard.
    Before she could speak, though, a commotion exploded onto the beach. We all looked up, just in time to see a magnificent stag crash onto the sand. Zach stumbled back, falling three full steps closer to the dock before he pulled himself upright.
    The buck was broad-chested and regal. His antlers spread like tree branches. As we gaped, he turned a tight circle, cutting away at the beach with his cloven hooves. His hind quarters bunched as he lowered his head, and he swept those incredible antlers back and forth, challenging the forest from which he’d sprung.
    No.
    Not challenging the forest.
    A snarling sound ripped across the beach. Branches crashed and undergrowth was torn up as a creature leaped out of the woods.
    Partly blocked by the stag, I could only take in the new animal’s haunches, huge and muscled like a gladiator’s. Its brindle coat glistened in the bright sunshine. I could make out four massive paws digging into the sand, black claws leaving streaks half an arm in length. A long furred tail lashed back and forth, a weapon in its own right.
    The stag broke to the left, toward Caleb. It panicked and leaped back to the right. The predator lunged forward, and the buck sprang for the woodland path, the one we witches had walked to begin our now-abandoned exercise.
    Frustrated at the potential escape of its prey, the brindled beast began to howl. The sound was deafening—the bay of a hound amplified by the deep chest of a dire wolf. I wanted to cover my ears, but the cacophony froze me; I lost all power to move. The thing seemed to sense my vulnerability. It swung its head around to glare at me with crimson eyes.
    And that was when I realized why the creature was so loud.
    The animal on the beach, the largest dog I’d ever seen, the largest wolf I’d ever imagined, had two heads. And both of them were slavering, with a forest of teeth ready to rip out the throat out of the first creature it reached. It bunched its hind quarters and prepared to launch at me.

CHAPTER 6

    Caleb lunged for the creature, swinging his sword with both hands. The weapon clanged as it struck the dog-thing, and pewter sparks flew. Sparks flew, but the animal did not yield. In fact, it lifted one massive paw and swiped at the sword as if it were a lawn